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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Smell (the sense of smell) (07/29/10)

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• TITLE: Southern Delicacy | Previous Challenge Entry
  By Gary Morris
  08/05/10
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Southern Delicacy

The south is known for its delicious down home cooking. Having grown up in South Alabama and Mississippi, I survived on the country cuisine that is talked about throughout the other forty-eight states. The smell that filled the air on any given warm summer afternoon was almost as delightful as the taste of the down home dinners.

It the late sixties and early seventies one could tell what their neighbors were having for dinner by the fragrance that surrounded their homes. Any good southerner could identify the smell of chicken frying in a skillet. Frying fish was no different. The smell of fried pork chops would raise an eyebrow too.

One could also define the sweet smell of the homemade cakes and pies as they baked to perfection. Fresh bread baking could always draw the attention of the neighborhood. Oh yes, let us not forget the smell of turnip greens cooking or the fresh butter beans from the garden. Just thinking about all this food makes me long for a trip home.

There is one “southern delicacy” that I have yet to mention. Anyone from these parts would know well of that which I speak. It would depend on what part of the country you are from that would determine how you pronounced this delight. The more sophisticated society would speak of these as “Chitterlings”. Those closer to the country would probably call these “hog chittlins”. If you found someone from the depths of the woods, well, they called them “hawg chittlins”.

How ever you may have heard them pronounced, if you have ever smelled them cooking you would never forget that aroma. As for me, I could never get past the smell of this “delicacy” boiling in the large pot on grandmother’s stove. The entire house smelled like the sewer had backed into the kitchen.

As long as I live I will remember the day my mom was cooking “chittlins” when a visitor from several miles away came for a visit. He got out of his car with a big grin on his face as he was so happy to see our family. He walked to the door and my dad called from within for him to “come on in”. As he walked inside, the grin turned to the most serious expression as the smell of the “chittlins” hit him in the face.

He quickly looked at his feet. He checked the bottom of both shoes to see if he had stepped in something and brought it into the house. By this time, my dad was in the floor, rolling and laughing at him. He quickly ran into the yard and my dad followed closely behind him trying to explain that “dinner was cooking”.

I also remember the day that a dear old sister opened her pot of freshly cooked “chittlins” in the center of the Homecoming Day spread at the “dinner on the ground”. Some of the people were overjoyed and some were running over one another attempting a quick getaway.

To many of the good ole southerners, “chittlins” was truly a delicacy, but to the crowd I joined company with saw it as a disgrace to mankind and swine alike. The smell, the taste and the thought was more than many of us “now sophisticated southerners” could handle. However, one can still find the large bucket of “hog chittlins” in any country grocery anywhere around the South.

That smell I wish to forget. The more delicious smells previously mentioned, well the smell is about all I can handle. This entire cholesterol thing has put an end to most of my southern meal memories.

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